


I Wonder If They Hate Me As Much As I Hate Myself

by AjanisApprentice



Series: Tales of Two Mercs [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-09-24 05:20:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20353036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AjanisApprentice/pseuds/AjanisApprentice
Summary: Another night, another nightmare.





	I Wonder If They Hate Me As Much As I Hate Myself

**Author's Note:**

> Small thing I forgot to put here when originally posting this: This work was beta'd by The_Apocryphal_One. As always much thanks to her for always being there to talk to and putting up with me. If you want to read some great Dimileth fics (the newest in her line of ship obsessions), or are just interested in seeing some work from a master in general, go find her stuff here: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Apocryphal_One/pseuds/The_Apocryphal_One
> 
> Tell her I sent you.

Shamir is used to it by now. Not that it makes it any easier.

She had heard tales of the Ashen Demon back in her days running around Fodlan before joining the Knights. Heard stories about his blank gaze, his soulless look, the way he defeated foe after foe with no appearance of care or concern. How he had his father’s, the Blade Breaker, strength but not at all his personality. How many wondered if he felt anything at all.

Lying beside her silently sobbing husband, Shamir once again thinks of just how wrong all those stories were.

She’s lucky and she knows it. She had never gotten close to any of her clients. Why should she, they were just people who would pay her for services. And it wasn’t like she had plans to stay in Fodlan at the time. Even Rhea, who took her in and tried to give her a greater calling then simply working for the next paycheck, didn’t mean much to her in the long run. She had her loyalty sure, but that was only to her, not to the church itself. And she never had to face any of the few knights she was close to on the battlefield.

Her husband was not so fortunate.

As the sobs and tremors subside, she begins to rub small circles into Byleth’s back. “Who was it this time?” She knows by now that she can skip asking if he wants to talk about his night terrors. He almost always does and if he doesn’t he’ll tell her.

Tonight is one of the rarities. Byleth simply shakes his head and Shamir continues her motions in silence. 

They stay like this for several minutes before Byleth turns to look at her.   
  
“Do you think they hate me as much as I hate myself?”

It’s the look in his eyes that hits her the hardest. The utter despair he feels, the guilt and pain he carries. Her husband had insisted on being there at his old student’s sides when they breathed their last. 

And a few times he was the one to have to put that last fatal injury in himself.

For a moment she is silent. She knows her husband has felt like this, but Byleth had never truly put his feelings into words before, at least not so openly. “I don’t think they possibly could,” she says softly, choosing her words carefully as she always does. “And I believe that they actually had some comfort, knowing you were there with them. That they had someone who truly cared for them in their final moments, not just a faceless stranger. Or even worse, having to be alone.”

Byleth’s shudders lessen gradually as she holds him tightly and eventually he falls back to sleep. And as Shamir lies awake in bed holding her husband, she once again falls back to that same realization she had the first time she saw Byleth next to one of his fallen students.

_ Parents should never have to bury their children. _

**Author's Note:**

> I was purposely vague about which route this is, since it really doesn't matter.


End file.
